


Like an Open Book

by Fran_fic



Category: Original Work
Genre: Corporal Punishment, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Slavery, Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-01
Updated: 2014-04-02
Packaged: 2018-01-17 18:47:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1398577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fran_fic/pseuds/Fran_fic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An unlikely friendship-turned-love is forming in a library, between an awkward young scholar and a male harem slave, thought good for nothing but one thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for a prompt, using the words 'Scholar/librarian' and 'Harem'. 
> 
> 'Harem' is used here in a sort of popularized meaning of 'a place where sex slaves, both male and female, are kept' and bears no resemblance to the real historical concept. It's all a fantasy!
> 
> The warnings are given for the themes of the story, but it is, as a whole, not particularly graphic. Non-con, for example, is implied and mentioned, but not actually shown in any scene.

Heislin halted abruptly on the doorstep. There was someone in his library! Well, it wasn’t really his library of course, but the one he found standing with his nose in his most recently sorted book case should definitely not be in there in any case. 

It was one of those creatures from His Lordship’s harem. Judging only by the dark brown hair hanging down the slim back he would have been hard pressed to tell if it was male or female at first sight, but one small detail told him that it was a boy. The male harem slaves, he knew, wore a locked chain around their waists and between their legs, which – though it did not hinder all natural functions – kept them from using their… members, when they weren’t allowed to. Heislin pushed his spectacles farther up on his long nose with a likewise long and thin ink-stained finger and flushed red. He didn’t want to think about the harem slaves’… members at all. 

What, in the name of all gods, was wrong with letting them be at least minimally covered? It was hard _not_ to think of such things, with that… thing invading his safe space, sticking his bare ass in the air in the most scandalizing way while he bent over to look at the books at the lower shelves.

Heislin wasn’t the only young man the new lord had employed around the palace. Two years ago, His Lordship had been given this province to rule by the king, and he wanted to shake some life into the sleepy surroundings. There had been constant repair and renovation going on since, and there seemed to be no end to these activities in sight. The people of the region had had to get used to a lot of new rules and regulations, too, some of which they were happy, others of which they were less happy, all of which they endured. What else was there to do? 

For Heislin, though, and many other young men, of varied and much wanted, skills, the arrival of the new lord, with all his new ideas, had meant good times. 

These young men of the palace were, most of them, a rowdy bunch who usually spent their free time together, though Heislin had had trouble fitting in. This wasn’t news to him; he’d never really fit in anywhere. He’d been pushed and bitten when his mother put him in the play pen with the other toddlers. He’d been mocked and teased in school, and he’d been made fun of since he’d first arrived at the palace. Nothing out of the ordinary at all. 

If the others ever expressed any honestly meant friendliness it was only to pity him that he’d got the most boring job in the whole palace, but… that’s where they were wrong. Heislin wasn’t sad at all to be ‘trapped’ in the stuffy dusty old library among all the stuffy dusty old books. He wasn’t at all bored having to sort through all these thousands and thousands of documents and volumes. 

Heislin had had such a good head on his shoulders already at an early age that the village school teacher had taken him under his wing. The old man had helped Heislin’s mother financially so he could keep tutoring him. Instead of becoming a farmer, like his poor dead father and his two older brothers, Heislin had studied with the school teacher while assisting in teaching the younger children. 

Heislin suspected his mother’s well rounded figure and welcoming bosom had been another reason the unmarried school teacher had been so eager to help him out in this way. He didn’t blame his mother for this. She’d been lonely since becoming a widow, and it wasn’t an easy life. Neither did he blame the school teacher. He was a kind old man, and, in many ways, the only friend he had had. 

Be that all as it may, Heislin had become quite well read in the end, and had been prepared to leave the village for the city to find work fitting of a budding scholar. Few such jobs could be found in these parts, and he couldn’t make a decent living assisting the old school teacher in the long run. However, that was before the new lord had arrived. 

Apparently the lords before hadn’t cared about the palace’s extensive library – Heislin had never before even heard of that there was one – but luckily the new lord did. He’d cared enough to hire a full time librarian to take care of the mess, and Heislin had got the job. He’d been very relieved about that. Heislin might not look it, being tall and thin compared to his broad shouldered stocky brothers, but the farmer was still deep in him. The thought of going to the city had scared him. He was sure he would be unmercifully teased in such an environment. At least here no one teased him for his thick accent.

His Lordship now and then showed some interest in the young men he’d hired. Still a vital man himself, though no longer very young, he enjoyed surrounding himself with athletic youths on hunts and informal parties. Heislin was therefore not that very surprised that His Lordship pretty much ignored _him_. The lord never sought him out unless he really had an errand to the library, needing some information, or an old document that concerned his affairs. His Lordship did still treat them all fairly, and Heislin couldn’t complain about the contents of his employment contract. 

He was allowed to reign unchallenged over this big hall and everything in it, and His Lordship never questioned how he sorted the books or archived the documents, or how long it took. Heislin’s future would be secured for years to come, and that doing what he liked doing best – be by himself, reading and studying, no one around to taunt him for his social failings and all around awkwardness.

It suited Heislin very well that people so seldom came to the library, and the few times they did he usually couldn’t wait for them to leave again. At least when people did come here, they had a real reason to. This one though… What could someone like _that_ possibly want in a library?

Heislin coughed loudly and demonstratively, wanting to express his annoyance. The slave, who had obviously not heard him before this, jumped a foot in the air and spun around.

“What are you doing in here?” Heislin demanded sharply. He’d always found it hard to talk to people that were supposed to be his equals, or stand up to the other young men teasing him. Not to mention the stuttering mess he turned into around his betters. However, to the servants, and especially the slaves, he felt he could assert himself a bit. 

“I… uh…” The slave waved his hand lamely before the shelves, and was clearly unable to explain himself. “I was only… Sorry, Sir.” He silenced and looked down. 

“Are you even allowed in these parts at all?” Heislin continued, not remembering having seen any of them around these corridors before.

The slave hung his head deeper. “I- I… don’t know, Sir. Probably not, Sir. I just always wanted to… Please don’t tell, Sir, it wasn’t even two weeks ago they caned me last.”

Heislin couldn’t help feeling a bit appeased at the slave’s pitiful appearance and he stepped over the threshold. “You wanted to… warm yourself?” He asked, curious of what the slave had been about to say. 

It would make sense he thought. The harem itself was well warmed; he knew that, so the scantily clad slaves would not catch the fever and die. The palace on the whole, however, was much too big to keep all of it warmed up during the colder months. To save money and work only the important parts were. Heislin was glad His Lordship considered the books and documents important enough to have the library sufficiently warmed up, as he also lived in there, and he hated to be cold. He’d seen naked harem slaves hurry through the cold corridors on several occasions though. They always did look desperate to return to their simple, but warm, rooms, having served the lord, his family, friends, guests, or the employees especially deserving of such a treat. He could very well understand they would hate the cold, as well. Maybe, he thought, this one had simply stepped into the library on his way back, to warm up a little. 

“It… It’s very warm and nice in here, Sir,” the slave agreed, still staring at his feet. 

Wait a minute, though, Heislin thought. That wasn’t quite what the slave had said, was it? He’d said he’d _always_ wanted to… something. “What is it that you’ve always wanted to do?” Heislin asked, suspicious now.

The slave squirmed a little; didn’t he look sort of guilty? “Oh, it was nothing, Sir. Never mind, Sir.”

Heislin frowned and stepped closer. Slaves shouldn’t talk like that to you, should they? “Don’t tell me what I should mind, or not,” he said. “Now, what sneaky business are you up to? Well? I’ll see to it that you’re punished.”

The slave at once got to his knees on the chilly flagstones and bowed deeply. “Oh please, Sir, please, I meant no disrespect. They’ll cane me so badly… Please?” There was a near sob in the slave’s voice and his back trembled. 

Heislin felt more than awkward, looking down at the slave cowering on the floor. It was easy enough to speak like that to a slave, when you dared not speak up against anyone else. However, this satisfying feeling vaporized in a second at this boy trembling at his feet. The very real fear was no fun at all, and of course he didn’t want this poor thing beaten just because of him. Heislin felt bad at his harsh manners.

“Um… I’m sure you didn’t mean it the way it came out,” he said trying to sound gracious. “I… forgive you. You can… um, stand up again.” 

The slave obeyed, slowly getting to his feet. Heislin couldn’t help noticing how gracefully and lithely he moved. They trained them to move like that, he thought, to… be pleasing, or some such. The other young men in the palace often enough talked of the harem slaves and what they could do, so, he knew some things. Too many things Heislin thought, blushing again. 

Pushing aside all thoughts of _why_ these slaves moved so well, Heislin still felt a bit envious. One of his many very non-charming traits was his darn clumsiness. He always stumbled over things, or dropped things, or ran into people, or knocked things over, or… How many laughs had his twitchy way of moving about, and his overlong legs and arms generated through the years? No wonder he preferred not trying any sorts of sports, but rather sat still in a chair and turned leaves, or dipped a quill in an ink well. No one wanted to watch him do _that_ , and didn’t stay around to see him spill ink on his lap, or stain his nose as he pushed his spectacles up.

“I won’t tell anyone,” Heislin assured the slave further. “I only want to know what you’re doing in here.”

“Yes, Sir, of course, Sir,” the slave said, still not looking up at him, his hanging hair covering his face. “I only thought that it couldn’t be such a bad thing if I looked at a few books, and… only looked a little. I’m sorry, Sir, I wouldn’t have broken anything, and my hands are clean. See?” He put his hands out for Heislin to inspect, and he could see they were indeed immaculately clean, and as little of a worker’s hands as his own – minus the ink stains. “I would have made sure to put them back exactly where I took them, Sir. But- but, I’ll never do this again, Sir. Thank you, Sir, for not having me punished, Sir.”

The slave bowed deeply at these words, very much looking as if he wanted to step around him and flee the library, but Heislin was intrigued now and didn’t want the slave to leave just yet. He stepped closer still and assumed an, he hoped, authoritarian stance. “Wait! You snuck in here because… you were interested in the books?”

“Yes, Sir,” the slave answered.

“But, you can’t _read_ them,” he said. That didn’t make sense at all Heislin thought. What possible interest could one have in books if one couldn’t actually read them?

For the first time the slave looked up and met his eyes, a flash in them that wasn’t really anger or impertinence, but maybe a little bit of pride. “I _can_ , Sir,” he said.

Heislin was, again, angry. “Now, watch your tongue, slave. What kind of manners are these? Lying like that _could_ get you punished!”

Slaves didn’t read! Slaves were workers, or used for pleasure, and they didn’t need such knowledge. Who would ever waste time on teaching a slave something like that? Most _farmers_ didn’t have the opportunity to study. Heislin had been lucky to grow up in a village, which had a small school to teach the children the basics, and to have had the opportunity to keep studying. He had sure never heard of a slave being given such chances. Besides, he would have thought most slaves _couldn’t_ be taught such things in any case. Slaves were not quite as people after all. They were humans, of course, only a… simpler kind, sort of. He couldn’t imagine they had the brains for such, and especially not one of these bed warmers. The slave must be lying. He frowned deeper, staring at the boy who at once looked down again.

“I’m sorry, Sir, didn’t mean to… But- but, I’m not lying, Sir, I can. I… can…” 

Heislin was far from convinced. “Well, it’s the easiest thing in the world to find out what a liar you are, isn’t it?” he said. Determined not to let the harem slave get away with such blatant twisting of the truth Heislin reached past him where he stood and picked a book from the case. He flipped up a random page and put it under the boy’s nose. “Read that, if you can!”

The boy took the book with a trembling hand and looked down on the page, brows furrowed. “It is rec… rec-o… recommended,” he started falteringly. “That… crop ro-ro…tation comes in threes. First year, wheat, second year… barley, and for the third year that it lay fallow…”

Heislin snatched the book back and stared at the page. It did indeed say exactly that. “Uh…” he managed, quite a bit embarrassed. “Do you actually also understand the words you just repeated from this page?” 

“I think that was about farming, Sir? But, I’ve never farmed so I…”

Heislin irritably shushed him. “Oh all right, so, you can read. Where on earth have you…”

They were interrupted by the evening bell sounding from the tower, and the slave spun around at the sound and visibly tensed up. “Oh my God, oh my God… Please, Sir, please dismiss me. I’m not assigned to anyone for the night, and if I’m late for lock up, they’ll beat me half to death.” He wrung his hands in despair and stared at Heislin imploringly.

“Will you come back as soon as you’re able to and explain this to me?” Heislin asked. This all seemed to be a small mystery to him, and mysteries needed to be researched and explained. 

“Yes, Sir, anything you say, Sir. Please, Sir, tell me to leave.”

“Oh… right. Of course. You’re free to go,” Heislin stepped aside and let the boy pass and he ran toward the door. “Wait!” Heislin shouted making the boy freeze on the doorstep, slowly turning around, fear written all over his face. “I… I’m sorry I called you a liar,” he said.

The slave stared. “Oh… Thank you, Sir,” he said, bowing quickly before turning to run off on bare feet.

**\-----o0o-----**

The slave was standing next to the entrance door to the library when Heislin returned from dinner, and it all came back to him in a second. Oh yes, he had told that boy to come back and explain himself, hadn’t he? That was nearly two weeks ago, though, and Heislin had thought the slave wouldn’t come after all, and had all but forgotten about it.

“Oh, it’s you,” he said, as uncomfortable with this second visit as with the first one.

The slave bowed deeply. “I’m sorry, Sir. I tried to come earlier, and I didn’t know if I was allowed inside again, so I waited outside and…” He silenced abruptly and Heislin realized that the slave was probably ever as much nervous about this, as _he_ was uncomfortable.

“That’s good,” Heislin said. “Uh, I guess you had better come inside then.”

A minute later they were seated at either side of one of the many desks in the library hall, Heislin staring fixedly at a book case just behind the slave, slightly to the right, and the slave fixedly staring at the hands in his lap. Silence reigned. 

It might have been a mistake, Heislin thought, to ask the slave to sit down with him, judging from the way the former was perching stiffly on the edge of the seat, back straight as a fence pole. Maybe one didn’t sit down like this with slaves at all, and he knew it? Heislin’s obvious lack of understanding of palace manners made him feel inferior. Even a simple slave knew what he didn’t. There must be a book about it somewhere, among the shelves and boxes he had not yet sorted through, he thought. He swore he’d find it and learn it by heart as soon as possible. For now he was, as so many times before, happy that no one came here. 

“So,” he finally said, as it was becoming clear that the slave wasn’t going to start this odd conversation. “Where did you learn to read then?”

The slave looked up. “I lived in the city, Sir,” he started. “My master was a merchant, and a fine gentleman. He was very rich, too, he was. I was born in the kitchens, but…” He looked proud enough. “The master took a liking to me.”

I bet he did, Heislin thought. He watched the boy as he spoke, and it was hard to deny how good looking he was. Naturally he would be. They all were, or they would of course not be in the harem in the first place. However, it was one thing knowing that in theory, and only seeing their alluring forms from afar now and then. It was quite a different matter having one of them so close. Not so easy trying to _not_ stare at the small pinkish nubs on the smooth-skinned chest and how the long silky dark hair brushed over them while the slave moved his head. Quite embarrassing how hard it was to try to pretend that he didn’t notice how well shaped that head was, with the high cheekbones and the straight thin nose. How appealing the soft lips were, how pretty the dark eyes… Heislin had to pinch his thigh under the desktop to snap out of it. 

Oh he _bet_ the slave’s master had taken a liking all right.

“Oh,” the slave said. “Oh, no! Not like that, Sir. He didn’t take a liking to me like _that_.” 

Heislin flushed red. Was it so easy to see what he was thinking?

“I was just a kid, Sir,” the slave went on. “Maybe nine, or ten, and he was a really old man. Sixty… at least. He was very kind, he was, Sir, and never did such things to me. And he learnt me how to read.”

“Taught!” Heislin said, the school teacher within him waking up. The slave looked confused. “Taught,” he repeated. “You say ‘he taught me how to read’, not ‘he learnt me how to’.”

“Oh… Yes, Sir. I’m sorry, Sir. He _taught_ me how to read, Sir.”

“But that is very strange, isn’t it?” Heislin said, still suspicious of the whole thing. “Why would a rich merchant bother with such a thing? Didn’t he have more important things to do than teach a simple kitchen slave how to read?”

The slave looked down in shame. “I’ve never thought about it that way before, Sir,” he said under his hanging hair. “I think… He didn’t do much anymore, Sir. My former master had a very bad back, and couldn’t walk for long or it hurt a lot, and he was much sick in other ways, too. He had a son who did all his business for him, while he was mostly sitting in his chair all day. But he liked me, Sir. He said I was a funny little boy, and he liked it when I was singing and dancing for him, and told him stories of what went on in the house and the streets outside. My master always laughed then, Sir, and gave me sweets.”

While he spoke the slave raised his head again, and there was a smile on his face as when someone remembers happier times. Heislin watched him speak, more fascinated by that fact than by the simple story in itself. It had never really occurred to him that slaves could have histories as well, and might look back on their childhood the way other people did. 

“So, he was old and sick and let the little funny slave boy from his kitchens amuse him to make the days pass?” Heislin asked.

“Yes, Sir,” the slave said. “He was always nice to me, and reading with him was fun. He said I was really clever, too, and could learn things very good.”

“Very well,” Heislin automatically corrected the boy. “You say ‘very well’, not ‘very good’. But, I’ll say… I never actually thought a slave could learn such things.”

“Why not, Sir?” 

The slave looked honestly bemused, and Heislin discovered, to his chagrin, that he no longer had an answer. Yes, why not indeed. 

“How did you end up here then?” he asked instead, changing the subject.

“When I was fifteen, Sir, my master died.” The slave hung his head, in obvious sadness. “It was really sad. We all cried, because he‘d been so good to all of us. Then the son came. He moved in with his family, and… Many things changed then, Sir.”

“He sold you?”

The slave nodded, still as sad. “He said, looking like I did, I would be of much better use in other places than in a kitchen. I- I didn’t want to go at all, Sir. I liked working in the house, and my mother was very sad to lose me, and cried a lot, and… Well, I soon enough got to know what it means when free men take a liking to you in _that_ way, Sir. I was trained as a harem slave, and later I was bought by the great master, His Lordship.” 

Heislin was oddly touched by the story and felt he should say something comforting. “But he _is_ a great lord isn’t he? You must be proud to be owned by him, and get to serve such a man?”

The boy looked properly shamed and not comforted at all. “Yes, Sir, of course. I apologize, Sir. I- I’m very proud, Sir. I didn’t mean to be ungrateful. But the great master didn’t buy me for himself. I’m not good enough for that. I… get passed around a lot.” There was no mistaking the bitterness in his voice.

Heislin felt bad now at his earlier thoughts, staring at the slave’s pretty face and bared body. Here was yet another thought that had never occurred to him, that the harem slaves might actually not like what they had to do. He’d always assumed they wouldn’t be chosen for such work if they weren’t kind of… inherently lecherous creatures.

Also, this boy had had a mother who had been sad to lose him!

Heislin thought of his own mother. She was a simple illiterate farmer’s wife, boisterous and gossipy. Sometimes – when he’d just started studying with the school teacher, and had slowly come to learn other ways – he’d been ashamed of her. Well, what if he would be forced to leave and never get to see her again? 

Heislin felt his eyes water at the mere thought. His warm and kind-hearted mother who loved them so dearly and never had a harsh word for her sons, ever. His mother who had always worked so hard to keep food on their table. Who was bursting with pride every Sunday when he came walking down to the village to give her of his earnings. 

Maybe this boy had loved his mother ever as much, and she’d been as kind and caring. Maybe she had been as proud when her son came down to the kitchens, once again having made their good master happy in his old age and illness. 

“Sir? I- I’m Sorry, Sir; I said something wrong again, didn’t I?”

Heislin shook his head, forcing himself out of his sad thoughts. “No, that’s all right, and I’m sorry. You must miss your mother very much.”

“I do, but… It’s the same for all of us, Sir. No one in the harem can see their parents again, if they ever even knew them at all, because that’s…” The boy silenced at Heislin’s consternated look, misinterpreting it. “Sorry, Sir, I’ll be silent now. The handlers always slap me for talking too much. No one is interested in a slave’s babbling, they say.” 

Heislin changed the subject again. “What’s your name?” he asked, with a friendly smile, to show that he was not annoyed at the ‘babbling’ at all.

“I’m Aris, Sir.” There was a cautious smile in return.

“And how old are you, Aris?”

“Twenty winters, Sir.”

Only a few years younger than himself then, and not really a boy at all, Heislin noted. “And you came here because you wanted to read a book like you did when you were a boy and had a happier life?”

The slave nodded. “I’m sorry, Sir. I wouldn’t have broken anything.”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t have. Um… How often do you think you could come here?” Heislin was surprised at the words that suddenly jumped out of his mouth. Was it really him saying this? Inviting someone to the library?

The slave shone up like the sun. “I- I…” he stuttered excitingly, “I don’t know, Sir, but- but now and then for sure. I’d try to come as often as I could, and- and, I could be of help, Sir, I could. Whatever you would have me do. Clean and- and make you tea, and… I can do such things, too, Sir. I remember it all from when I worked in the kitchens, I do.”

Heislin grinned at the obvious enthusiasm. “It’s a deal then,” he said.

\---

As Heislin closed the door behind the slave a few minutes later he couldn’t remember ever having made anyone this happy before, except maybe his mother. It felt rather nice.

**\-----o0o-----**

Heislin had a period of regret. Why had he told the slave he could come here? It would surely only be very annoying having that thing around, disturbing him, and distracting him with all that… nakedness, and all. Surely the slave couldn’t really be of any use. He could make his own tea, thank you very much. Why was he so stupid to have risked his peace and quiet, even if it would only be for a few hours now and then?

Oh he knew why. He’d felt sorry for the slave as he’d told his story, but that was stupid, too, wasn’t it? The harem slaves had a relatively good life, after all. If he should feel sorry for a slave, it should be a field worker. Now _they_ had a harsh life. 

Heislin put a large stack of books on a desk and blew the dust off the top one, forcing himself to stop thinking of such things. Life was harsh for so many, free and slaves alike. What could a simple farmer, turned a likewise simple librarian, do about such a natural state of things? Nothing, that’s what he could do, not a single bloody thing. He should sort books, not worry about things he was powerless to change anyway. 

This, in its turn, didn’t change the fact that he’d made a careless promise that he now regretted. The next time the slave came around; Heislin would tell him to go away. He would use the time until then to come up with a good excuse as to why the slave couldn’t visit again.

**\-----o0o-----**

A few days later the slave… _Aris_ , Heislin corrected himself, was again waiting outside the library entrance when he returned from dinner, and he looked so excited that Heislin didn’t have the heart to tell him to leave. With a deep sigh he let the slave in.

“What can I do for you, Sir,” Aris asked as soon as they stepped over the threshold, smiling like the sun, eager, it seemed, to be of help. 

Heislin looked around the hall. When he’d first started to work here the library had been in a terrible state. Not having been warmed up in years many books and documents had been destroyed by the damp and mould. Everything had been covered in a thick layer of dust and shelves had come loose from their cases, the books fallen to the floor. Several windows had been broken, too, winds having blown documents all over the hall, birds having built nests under the trusses. At some point in time people had also obviously stopped caring about actually keeping a system, and there had been numerous boxes, and piles of books stacked on the floor against the walls – all of it simply thrown in there without any sort of care, no detectable attempt to sort anything.

Heislin had spent the last one and half year trying to save what could be saved. 

At his shy and stammered request His Lordship had sent carpenters to the library to take care of the broken shelves and windows, which had meant a few noisy and stressful weeks. However, with the library finally repaired, he’d been left in peace to turn his attention to the actual books. Heislin had worked out a system for how the books should be sorted, according to their subject matter and the name of their authors, and then he’d started going through them one by one. He’d written a card for each item, cleaned them, repairing them if possible, archiving the ones too damaged to save for later copying, and had found the rest a final place of their own on the shelves. 

It was work that was taking an awful long time, partly because he was the only one doing it – and he was being very thorough – and partly because he so often picked up a book with the intent of putting it on a shelf, and then started to read it instead. 

Looking at Aris now, Heislin felt very reluctant to let someone help him. He doubted anyone else would be as thorough as he was or that they could judge as well as he could if a book was worth repairing or not. They wouldn’t be familiar with his sorting and card filing systems either. He dreaded to think about what kind of mess a harem slave could make let loose in here, no matter if he could read or not.

Thinking it over, he supposed Aris couldn’t really do that much damage with a dust rag in his hand though, and so he led the slave to a cupboard where he stored his cleaning equipment. The slave followed close on his heels. 

“Why don’t you clean all those empty book cases over there,” Heislin said, and gave Aris a rag in his hand, and a bucket with some water left in it. 

Aris, his smile not fading for a second, got right to it and Heislin thought he’d never before seen anyone looking so eager to clean something. _He_ sure wasn’t. Maybe this wouldn’t be such a bad arrangement after all.

\---

Lost in a book, it was as if no time at all had passed until Aris suddenly stood before him again. “Sir? Sorry to disturb you, Sir. What more can I do for you, Sir?”

Heislin looked up, pushing his spectacles up his nose. Aris looked quite… charming, smiling still, his hair tousled and his cheeks reddened from the work. There was a bead of sweat slowly running down his chest…

“What?” Heislin, said, forcefully pushing those thoughts aside. “You’re finished already?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Heislin kept a suspicious eye on the slave as he walked over to the shelves to inspect them. They were indeed very clean. He climbed a stepladder and inspected the top of the cases, too, and again his fingers came away clean as he pulled them along the old wood. Well, he supposed he did always lose track of time when he got immersed in reading something interesting. He looked down, and Aris looked up at him expectantly. Heislin nodded approvingly. “Good job, Aris,” he said.

Aris got the expression of a happy dog at the praise, Heislin thought, if dogs grinned like that instead of wagging their tails, that is. He felt, again, bad for the slave. Aris was hoping that he’d pleased him enough to be rewarded with being allowed access to the books, he thought. That’s what he’d come for, after all. Heislin could think of other things he wouldn’t mind having cleaned, while he still had the slave at his disposal, but he couldn’t deny Aris that reward. He climbed down from the ladder. 

“If you want to,” he said. “You can look for a book to read in any of the boxes over there. They’re not yet sorted, so you can rummage about in them as much as you like, I suppose.”

Aris stared at the boxes as if Heislin was offering him a chest full of gold. “Really, Sir? I can really…?”

“Sure. Why not? Have fun!” Heislin grinned.

A few minutes later they were both immersed in their reading. Heislin had gone back to his desk and continued on the book he’d started on earlier, while the slave had put his naked ass directly onto the flagstones, leaning his back against a big box. 

Heislin looked up from the pages now and then to watch him. Wasn’t he cold sitting like that? However, the slave seemed too lost in concentration to notice. He‘d found a very large book of maps, that he rested on his lap, and seemed to be completely fascinated by the richly decorated green and blue drawings. His lips moved as he silently spelled out the names of cities, rivers and mountains and now and then he lifted his hand onto the pages and followed the wriggly lines of roads and borders with a light finger.

It was so peaceful, Heislin thought, reading together. He’d never had a friend to just sit around and read with. Of course, he thought, frowning as he remembered, Aris was not quite a friend, and could never really be. Could he? 

In any case, he’d quite forgotten by now that he’d decided to tell the slave not to come back.

**\-----o0o-----**

During the coming months Aris turned up often but irregularly. Sometimes he came in the morning, sometimes in the evening, staying an hour here and a few hours there. Often he had to leave in a hurry, his happy expression suddenly turning anxious and worried as he profusely excused himself to Heislin, and fled. Sometimes he turned up several times a week then suddenly he would be gone for days, or even a week or more. Sooner or later, though, he would stand in the door again, ever eager to help out in any way he could.

Heislin soon realized there was no risk at all letting the nimble and clever slave loose in the library. Before he knew it, Aris was everywhere, dusting here and cleaning there, making him tea, and finding him his spectacles as he for the millionth time forgot where he’d put them. Aris was constantly behind him to pick up the things he dropped, too, and quickly darted half way across the hall to pull boxes out of the way in the last minute, as Heislin was about to fall over them, carrying stacks of books so high he couldn’t see where he was going. It was quite remarkable, too, how quickly he learned where the books were supposed to go. Aris had been there for a couple of hours… and suddenly there were fifty new books on the shelf instead of ten. 

It was so easy to reward him, too. An approving smile from Heislin and a book to read, and he seemed the most content person in the world. 

It wasn’t long until Heislin became his teacher as well. 

One day, while they sat silently reading, Aris hesitatingly came up to him and carefully asked if Heislin would explain a few things from his book that he didn’t understand. Heislin did, and encouraged by this the slave admitted there were many other things he’d wondered about, too. He shyly asked Heislin to teach him more. 

Heislin had never really liked helping the old school teacher tutoring the children of the village. Most of the little rascals had been much more interested in whispering to each other, than listening to him. They would rather day dream, or shoot seed and pebbles, through a hollow piece of reed, at his neck and back as soon as he turned his back on them. The little imps had a very good aim, and were always quick enough to hide the reed when he angrily spun around, but could hardly learn their ABCs, Heislin thought, snorting contemptuously at the memory. 

Aris was different. Aris understood what a privilege it was to get to learn things. As Heislin showed the slave this and that, and explained things to him, he hung at his every word. It wasn’t only out of gratefulness that Aris listened so attentively, it wasn’t simply the dog’s ears perking up at the sound of a master’s voice. Heislin soon realized how naturally curious the young man was, how eager to know more, how greedily he wanted to feed his hitherto under-stimulated mind. 

Aris was _interested_.

Such a student made teaching enjoyable in a way Heislin had never really thought it could be. He’d always wanted to be left alone with his books and quills, but now he became as eager to share his knowledge as Aris was to receive it. 

There was this inner voice at the back of Heislin’s mind that tried to tell him that this wasn’t right. He shouldn’t waste time teaching a slave things, which he would never benefit from knowing. Especially a slave that didn’t belong to him. However another, stronger, voice, told him it wasn’t fair, and that it was a waste in itself to keep such a mind from learning. Hadn’t he, a simple farmer’s son, been given the chance to become something that fitted his nature better than what he’d been born into? Then why must Aris be doomed to stay something that clearly didn’t fit him – other than by superficial looks that would soon enough fade – and be denied _his_ true nature? Oh, he knew why. Aris was a slave, and such concerns weren’t wasted on such. 

The more time Heislin spent with Aris the less he was inclined to accept this fact.

The first voice was also telling him that he shouldn’t use the slave’s services at all. That Aris _wanted_ to help out, happily so, didn’t matter in the least. The harem slaves’ service was a privilege, and His Lordship was the one deciding who should have it. They could both be in trouble about this, Heislin understood as much. The other voice tried to quiet these worries as well. He wasn’t using Aris for sex after all. The mere thought made Heislin blush. What the slave did here was beside and beyond his appointed purpose, and so, technically, Heislin was really not using something he wasn’t entitled to, was he? 

Once Heislin had asked Aris if he wasn’t taking as risk going to the library, and that he hoped he wasn’t escaping from his usual duties to come here. Aris had sworn he would never disobey his handlers, and that he came only when he wasn’t asked for by anyone, and so would have been left with nothing to do anyway. Heislin chose to believe then that the slave knew what he was doing, but they both knew that Aris didn’t exactly ask his handlers’ express permission to go see him either. 

Heislin couldn’t silence the worried voice completely, but he got better at ignoring it. Sometimes he almost managed to forget that his young assistant and student never wore clothes, but had a chain around his waist and a ring around his neck; that he was in fact not a student or assistant at all, but an owned prostitute.

\---

As the weeks passed Aris and he slowly, but steadily, made the library come together as they worked, studied, talked and read. Heislin ignored the world outside the library, and let himself enjoy the company, enjoy having a friend.

**\-----o0o-----**

Ignoring the world outside the library walls, though vastly preferable in Heislin’s mind, was not always that easy. He found it even more unbearable now than before to meet with his peers during dinner time, and endure their teasing. Tolerating their rude and lewd talk about the harem slaves, and what they would like to do to them, became increasingly harder as well. Didn’t they realize it was people they were talking so carelessly about? Thinking about any of _them_ forcing Aris into a bed made him both angry and uneasy, to say the least. He felt sorry for the slave girls, as well, of course he did, but he was secretly relieved that most of the young men seemed more interested in them than the slave boys.

Aris didn’t really let him forget these things either, though through no fault of his own. Heislin never asked Aris what he had to go through when not in the library with him, and Aris didn’t offer any such information on his own accord. However, Aris’ body spoke of the things his mouth wouldn’t, and as attractive and unclothed as he was, how could Heislin not notice? 

Heislin couldn’t miss that Aris one day turned up with an upper lip swollen to twice its size with a reddening bruise at the corner of his mouth. It wasn’t possible not to see the blackening bruises on his hips either, which came and went, and came again. He never got to know what Aris might have done to earn the welts that sometimes covered his ass and thighs, or why he sometimes seemed to have lost his usual gracefulness and walked stiffly across the floor, though no marks could be seen. 

No, Heislin never got to know, but it wasn’t hard to imagine what might have caused these things, and it made him highly uncomfortable and sad. Heislin wished he could help Aris in some way, but he simply couldn’t imagine what _he_ could ever do about it. 

He said nothing.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unlikely friendship-turned-love is forming in a library, between an awkward young scholar and a male harem slave thought good for nothing but one thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was written for a prompt, using the words 'Scholar/librarian' and 'Harem'.
> 
> 'Harem' is used here in a sort of popularized meaning of 'a place where sex slaves, both male and female, are kept' and bears no resemblance to the real historical concept. It's all a fantasy!
> 
> The warnings are given for the themes of the story, but it is, as a whole, not particularly graphic. Non-con, for example, is implied and mentioned, but not actually shown in any scene.
> 
> \---
> 
> This is the second, and last, part then. I hope you enjoyed it! :-)

“Sir, may I…?” 

Aris reached across the desk for a dust rag, draped over a pile of books, and before Heislin had a chance to protest he leaned in close and gently rubbed the tip of his nose. Heislin quickly snatched the rag out of his hand and continued the rubbing on his own.

“You… had an ink stain, Sir…”

“Yes, thank you, Aris,” Heislin said, moving away an inch or two. Aris had developed a manner of fussing over him that sometimes almost reminded him of his mother, and it annoyed him, he thought. Truth be told, though, it wasn’t really a _motherly_ kind of care, and it didn’t annoy him half as much as it actually _embarrassed_ him.

It was never as clear to Heislin what Aris _really_ was as when he did these things. It was subtle, really, and half of the time he was sure that he was in fact only imagining things. That it was only this carnal part of his mind interpreting the slave leaning in so close, and other similar, no doubt innocent, movements as something done with a more… lecherous intent. 

It was all quite confusing. 

Heislin had never been popular among the girls, and didn’t have much experience with the opposite sex. He’d had some clumsy fumbles in the dark on a few occasions with a milk maid from the village some years back. However, she’d never let him do anything else than kiss her, and feel her breasts through her dress. It had been quite, _quite_ exciting, but very awkward at the same time, and maybe better for him than for her. Later Heislin had got the distinct feeling that she’d told about his failings in this area. He thought he could interpret some teasing and laughter as this being the case, and had since been scared off trying anything like it again. 

Not that the girls were lining up… 

That Heislin had always found some of the young _men_ of the village attractive as well, was something that he would rather die than act upon, fearing the teasing would reach new heights if he ever tried to approach any of them with such intent. Obviously he wasn’t alone in harboring such feelings for his own sex, or young male slaves like Aris would of course not be available to men for bed-service. That was the way of lords and rich city folk, though, and any person more worldly than the inhabitants of his backward little village. Yes, some of his peers _did_ talk of the male harem slaves at times, but it was always accompanied by a laugh, saying they were almost like girls anyway. They didn’t show, or admit, any such interest in their male equals. 

So, Aris was not his equal, and the slave was one of those ‘almost like a girl anyway’. If Heislin took advantage of him sexually his peers would probably even admire him for it. Why, ‘nailing’ one of His Lordship’s expensive luxurious harem slaves, female _or_ male… They wished they’d be so lucky! 

However, Heislin simply couldn’t imagine doing such a thing. 

Apart from the fact that he didn’t know how to, it wouldn’t be right, he thought. He didn’t have His Lordship’s permission for one thing, but what really bothered him was the thought of using Aris against his will and forcing himself upon him. Aris wasn’t happy serving like that, that much he’d understood. Besides, Aris, beautiful and graceful, wouldn’t want to be with him, gangly and long-nosed, if given a choice. At least here, with him, he should have that choice. 

But then Aris did these things, and it confused Heislin even more. 

Wasn’t there something in the slave’s gentle touches; a certain… warmth? Wasn’t there a sort of shine to Aris’ eyes sometimes as he looked at him and held the gaze just a few seconds longer than a slave should? Wasn’t there a sort of hopeful tensing of Aris’ body as he inched himself closer while they sat together, Heislin teaching him? 

Just consider the way Aris had slightly parted those soft full lips of his as he leaned close just now, rubbing an ink stain from his nose… 

No, no… Heislin must only imagine these things. He was simply just _that_ desperate and pathetic.

\---

Heislin would learn that he had not been imagining things at all.

**\-----o0o-----**

Aris looked strange today Heislin thought, grinning elatedly already coming into the library. The slave greeted him politely, as always, but then he dashed into a corner of unsorted boxes, and seemed to look for something in particular that he brought back to the desk, holding it behind his back.

“Sir,” he said. “The last time… I found something. A book that… A special book, and- and I wanted to show it to you, Sir.”

“Oh?” Heislin said; putting his own book down, wondering what Aris could have found that made him so excited. “Well, let me see it then.” He smiled and reached a hand out for it.

Aris hesitated, but then he quickly put the book in Heislin’s hand and retreated a few steps, nervously staring at his feet. 

Heislin looked at the book. It was rather small and bound in a simple leather binding. It seemed not to be damaged from mould, but was quite worn, obviously having been read by many. It surprised Heislin a bit because it looked rather uninteresting and didn’t either have a title, or an author printed on the cover. He turned it around a few times, puzzled by this, and then flipped it open. 

The book was special, all right, in that it was the only book of erotic drawings Heislin had ever seen. He’d had no idea such a thing was hiding in the library, and he blushed fiercely as he stared at the images. It was not just any kind of erotic drawings either, but highly graphic, and anatomically correct, depictions of men performing sexual acts with each other. Heislin gawked, mouth open. That picture to the right… He knew _that_ … sort of, but the picture to the left… Could you actually _do_ that?

Quickly he closed the book again and shoved it aside. “Uh…” he said, speechless. 

Aris hesitated still but then seemed to find the courage to come up to the desk again. “Sir, I- I’ve been meaning to… I just wanted to say, that, if you want to… do some of the things in that book, I’d… Sir, you’ve been so nice to me, and treated me so kindly, and taught me all these things and let me… Sir, I’ve seen how you sometimes look at me, and I want to give something back, but I’m just a slave, and I don’t have anything to give, and… I know the great master, hasn’t given his permission, Sir, but- but… Please use me any way you’d like, Sir. I’d be happy to do all I can to…”

Heislin couldn’t believe his ears. Aris was offering him his body to use? Told him he could do what he wanted? If there was a part of him that secretly rejoiced at this, Heislin didn’t let it come up to the surface. Instead, the only thing he could think about, at that very moment, was how utterly insulted he felt. 

He was ashamed and embarrassed that his attraction to the slave hadn’t been the secret he thought it was for one thing. Apparently Aris had read him like an open book, and what did he do with the knowledge? Tried to offer himself as payment! As if Heislin had had a hidden agenda with all the good things he’d done. 

Heislin had thought that in spite of the social rift between them, they had become friends, but Aris had all the time seen him as someone he had to provide a service to. A service he wouldn’t enjoy in any way shape or form, but that would earn him advantages, like… 

Like the _whore_ he was!

Heislin stood up so sudden that he tilted his chair over, making Aris back away in fear. Coldly he stared at him and pointed at the door. “Get out!” he ordered.

Aris’ eyes widened in shock, and all the color drained from his face. For a second he seemed as frozen in place, but then he obeyed the order without a word and ran past the desk. 

He disappeared out the door, leaving it wide open in his hurry to get away.

**\-----o0o-----**

Heislin was angry and disappointed for almost a whole day. He felt stupid and naïve and… hurt. At first he was only happy to be rid of the slave, but it wasn’t long before he thought differently.

Surely Aris had meant nothing bad with his offer. Had the slave ever been anything else than utterly respectful and grateful? How could he have ever thought Aris had knowingly wanted to insult him? Why couldn’t the poor slave’s words have been the simple truth? He wanted to give something back, the way anyone would want to do something nice for a friend, and he’d had nothing else to give. From a slave’s perspective, a slave that had been trained and used like that, it would be only natural to… 

Though Heislin still believed Aris would only do it out of gratefulness – a thought that hurt quite a bit no matter how he looked at it – it did become more and more clear to him that the slave hadn’t deserved such a cold dismissal.

Heislin felt increasingly worse about the whole thing, and constantly saw Aris’ shocked and scared face in front of him as he fled from the library. When Aris would come the next time he would explain this to him and tell him he understood the good intentions now. He would convince Aris of how terribly bad he regretted throwing him out. 

However, as the days passed Heislin realized, with a sinking feeling in his stomach, that Aris might, in fact, not come back at all.

**\-----o0o-----**

When more than three weeks passed and there had been no sign of Aris, Heislin could no longer deny the fact. Aris had never been away this long before, and it was clear he didn’t dare come back.

It wasn’t only a bad conscience plaguing him that made Heislin truly sad at this. He also missed Aris more than he would have ever thought. The big hall was so empty without him. It was so silent without his chatter, his questions and his shy laughter. Heislin sat down to read a book, and found himself looking up to watch Aris read somewhere nearby, but he wasn’t there. It pained him to realize how much he’d enjoyed looking at him only. Heislin constantly found himself thinking that he would tell, or show, Aris this and that, planning what to teach him next, and then he remembered, with a start, that their lessons and talks were over – for good. 

That he’d driven Aris away.

No! Heislin couldn’t accept that he wouldn’t see Aris again. He’d made a terrible mistake and now he must make it right. So, if Aris wouldn’t come here, he simply had to go find him instead. But how? He couldn’t very well just stomp into the harem and demand to talk to the slave. They weren’t supposed to have formed this friendship in the first place, and even so, the harem was off limits to everybody, except His Lordship. The handlers would simply not let him in. 

He supposed he could roam the palace and hope he would run into Aris on his way to, or from, servicing someone, and so be able to speak to him a little. In fact, he’d already been doing that for the last week. He’d started to take walks around the palace, going to places he’d never cared to visit before, finding himself discreetly keeping an eye out for someone with a slender body and long silky brown hair. He _had_ seen a few harem slaves, but none of them had been Aris. There had been no sign of him anywhere.

In the end Heislin could only think of one possibility to see Aris again, and though the mere thought made him queasy, he eventually became desperate enough to give it a try. 

He went to His Lordship’s secretary to ask for an appointment. Heislin would make a request for the privilege of having a harem slave for the night.

**\-----o0o-----**

His Lordship listened patiently while Heislin stammered and stumbled on his words, trying to will the blood to drain from his face, and his hands to stop shaking behind his back. It didn’t make him feel better to see His Lordship’s wide amused smile as he finally managed to get his wish out.

“So, you want one of my harem slaves for the night, you say? And why do you think, young man, that I would give one to _you_ , when I haven’t allowed any of your friends one?”

If possible Heislin turned even redder. How utterly humiliating this was, and it only promised to be more so. “I can of course not expect anything from Your Lordship, but I thought, Your Lordship might understand. The others,” he swallowed hard, “can… They have no problems with- with… arranging such meetings on their own, Sir. Whereas I… I’ve never… Never been able to…” He simply couldn’t say it. 

The lord laughed. “Oh dear, I think I know what you’re trying to tell me, boy. There aren’t too many girls visiting the library I gather? There, there, boy, don’t look so devastated. I’m quite flattered you would come to your lord to, I suppose, ask me to make a man of you.”

Heislin wanted to sink through the floors and into the earth several stories below. His shameful ‘condition’ of virginity, which seemed to amuse the lord so much, was a fact after all, though he’d never meant to discuss it in such a way with _anybody_. It was simply that he hadn’t been able to think of any other reason to ask for a harem slave. In some ways, though, he thought his humiliation nothing but a fitting punishment for having been so cruel to Aris. If the lord was amused enough to accept his request, it would be worth it, which didn’t make this moment any easier. 

“Well,” the lord said. “I suppose keeping celibate too long is really not good for your health, and I do want a healthy librarian, God knows no one else around here would be able to do your work. I’m feeling generous today and will grant you your request. Will any of the girls do, or do you maybe have a particular one in mind?”

Oh God, Heislin thought. Now things would become even more embarrassing. “Thank you, Your Lordship, I- I’m very grateful. Please don’t consider me rude if I admit that I did mean to ask for someone in particular, but…” He had to say it, or this would all have been for nothing. “It’s one of the…. boys.”

If possible His Lordship grinned even wider at this. “Oh, is that so? One of the boys, eh? Seems a strange way to lose ones virginity on, but… By all means, if another boy is your preferred taste. I prefer girls myself, but I suppose a nice boy now and then doesn’t hurt. So, who is this boy then that you’re so eager to plunge into?”

Through his embarrassment Heislin still managed to feel happy and relieved. Finally he would get to see Aris again, and make things right. “His name is Aris, Sir,” he said eagerly. “He has long brown hair, and…”

His Lordship cut him off with a raised hand and looked very serious all of a sudden, the amusement gone. “I know who you mean, librarian. I’m afraid you will have to choose another one. That one is not available anymore. For anyone.”

Heislin was crestfallen, his stomach knotting up. “Not… available? What- what does Your Lordship mean?” He forgot all intentions of keeping their friendship a secret at these words, and openly voiced his fear. “Has something happened to Aris? Please, Sir, tell me what’s happened!”

His Lordship frowned suspiciously at his worried demand. “I suppose you can say something happened to him, yes. The harem handlers found out he was sneaking around where he shouldn’t, staying away at odd times, probably meeting people he shouldn’t meet,” he explained. 

“However,” His Lordship went on. “The slave wouldn’t say a word about what he’s been up to, and with whom, flatly refusing to obey my orders to speak. So, I sent him to spend a few weeks in the dungeons. I thought I’d give him some time to consider if this choice of silence really was such a good idea. He seemed to think it was, so the last few nights I‘ve had him flogged, as well. With a strap only, as it hurts enough, but doesn’t easily scar. I thought I wouldn’t risk his looks at this point, in case he would come to his senses. 

“But wouldn’t you know; the stubborn little shit still didn’t loosen his tongue to tell me his sins, no matter how he screamed and wailed and cried. Such a bad, disobedient, dishonest, and ungrateful creature I have no wish to keep. I mean to have him whipped properly tonight. Yes he’ll get the single tail this time, and if he survives that... I’ll send him out into the fields. A shame, really, since he’s quite an attractive boy, and has been in demand often by my guests and friends. Well… rotten to the core, it seems, despite an innocent and submissive appearance.”

Heislin was, at first, too shocked for words, staring at His Lordship with his mouth open. He’d never understood their friendship could have such serious consequences for Aris. Never thought he could be whipped… Killed! 

And Aris had dared disobey, only to protect him? Even after Heislin had so cruelly rejected him, he’d refused to give the great master – the man with the power to decide if he lived or died – his name? The most awful feeling of guilt flooded Heislin, but then… he got angry!

Completely forgetting who he was talking to he stepped up to the lord and shook a fist in his face. “How can you be so cold? What kind of a monster are you to treat a helpless slave that way? Don’t you understand he’s protecting someone? Someone… someone, who’s the _only_ one at fault here. That boy has done _nothing_ to deserve such cruelty!” Heislin yelled, unable to control himself.

“I see.” His Lordship said. “And this ‘someone’ wouldn’t happen to be you, would it?”

Obviously there was no longer any use in pretending, but Heislin was still too angry and upset to care in either case. “Yes, Your Lordship,” he sneered. “That _would_ happen to be me. I ordered the slave to the library. It’s me who’s been keeping him there for the last few months, and _I’m_ the only one who should be blamed.”

“The _nerve_ …” the lord said. “You have the nerve to come here, feigning innocence, and ask me to have him for the night, when you’ve been using him for months already, without my permission.”

“What?” Heislin said, if possible even angrier at this accusation. “Your Lordship is so utterly and completely _wrong_. I have absolutely never touched the boy in such a manner. I’ve feigned nothing. 

“You can only think of him as a creature to use for your base lusts, but it’s your loss, Sir, that you don’t know that boy better, and that you don’t care to either. A mere object of pleasure is the least that Aris is. Behind that pretty face is an intelligent mind, a mind that wants to know and learn. Did you know the boy can read? That he’s been able to read since he was a small child? Do you know what an excellent student he is? How easily he learns everything I put before him? Do you even care at all what a mind you are wasting keeping him like he was no better than an animal? No, I suspect not. 

“Well, that’s the truth for you, Your Lordship. I haven’t been having sex with that slave, I’ve been teaching him. Teaching him to write, teaching him mathematics, history, geography and literature. And though he has far to go still, I’d dare say that he’s more intelligent than most of the people who are pushing him face down into a mattress without caring the least how he feels about it.”

His Lordship looked shocked at this unexpected outburst, to say the least, and at a loss for words, too. “So, you’re still a… virgin?” he finally asked.

“Yes!” Heislin yelled, embarrassment again creeping in, but not enough to abate his anger at this point. 

“Well, even so, you didn’t have my permission to use that slave for such a strange experiment either, now did you?”

Shame replaced Heislin’s anger and coldness came over him as he realized his yelling might have only made things worse for Aris. “No, Your Lordship, I didn’t have your permission to teach him. I apologize for my behavior. I understand that I’ve gone too far, and that I’ve been horribly out of line here. I- I’ve taken advantage of the generous conditions under which I was hired. There are no excuses. I understand I must leave Your Lordship’s service, but… 

“I _beg_ of you not to punish Aris further. If you don’t want to keep him, then please, let me buy him. Let me take him off your hands. I’ve saved money. I’ve used almost nothing of what you’ve paid me so far, other than what I have given to my poor mother. I’ll return it all to you, Your Lordship. It’s nine golden, and I’ll give it all back, if only you can find it in your heart to spare Aris.”

Unbelievably enough His Lordship gave up a small smile at that. “You’d pay _nine_ golden for that boy? Well read as you are, I’d say your business sense is sorely lacking. That slave is worth no more than two or three golden, at the most.”

Heislin didn’t know what to say.

His Lordship shook his head. “You would actually use all of your life’s savings, in spite of the fact that you think you no longer have a position here, even though your own mother depends on your income – to save a slave from a punishment that you consider unjust?”

Heislin straightened up. It did sound strange, the way His Lordship put it, and maybe not the most intelligent step a young man in his situation could take right now, but he had only one answer to give in spite of all that. “Yes,” he said. 

His Lordship laughed. “I’ll say… I’ve never thought my librarian to possess a backbone, but it seems you actually do. I see you’re one of those whose true character doesn’t come out until they feel protective enough of someone, who doesn’t show some courage and ability to stand up for themselves until they actually fall in love. Ha, highly amusing. I have to admire your youthful passion and idealism, boy. It’s a thing to behold for someone who gets older every day and more blasé for each year. However, take my advice, young man. A slave is never a good thing to fall for, it only causes you trouble, sooner or later, in one way or another. Your infatuation with this one could have cost you your livelihood.”

Heislin was too stunned to utter a word and His Lordship laughed again at his stupid expression. 

“Now, I tell you what. Even though that slave has no use for the same kind of idealism – and I ought to have him whipped only for his stupid notion that that sort of bravery is ever expected or admired in a creature like him – I will consider him punished enough for his transgressions. I still don’t want to keep him though, and if you want to part with two golden, then I would think that’s a fair price for him. I’m an honest man, and won’t take advantage of your naiveté in business matters. 

“And I have no intentions of parting with your services. I need a librarian – this whole region needs some damn culture – and you’re a good one, even though you’re also the only one. So, keep working here by all means. Have the boy and do with him what you please, it matters not one iota to me. We will forget this conversation ever took place, boy. But…” The coldness in his eyes came back as he stared at the cringing Heislin. “If you, or that little whore, ever cause me any sort of trouble again, you’re out! Then you’ll see how long your feelings for that boy will last, trying to keep you both from starving out there.”

**\-----o0o-----**

Less than an hour later His Lordship’s private secretary visited the library to exchange Heislin’s money for a document stating that Aris now legally belonged to him. It was a very strange feeling holding that piece of parchment in his hand. That he would end up actually owning Aris, was something that had never even occurred to him. His Lordship was right; men like him usually didn’t own such luxury items. If he ever did lose his position here, he most surely _would_ never be able to afford keeping Aris. However, for the time being, and by some miracle, he _was_ still His Lordship’s librarian, the terms of his employment the same as before. He wouldn’t worry about an unknown future now that, in the present, Aris was saved, and… his!

\---

It was the first time Heislin had ever been in the dungeons of the palace, and he hoped he would never have a reason to visit again. It was dark, cold and damp down here, and he felt nauseated only thinking about how Aris had been forced to stay down here for several weeks. What if it had made him ill?

He was waiting in an ante chamber together with the jailor, who spun a heavy ring of keys around a stocky finger, looking bored and annoyed, wordlessly staring at him. When, finally, one of the harem handlers came down – sent by the secretary – he didn’t look very happy either.

“Is this some sort of prank, boy?” he said. “I don’t trust that damn secretary one bit. He’s played practical jokes on me before. I don’t have time for this.”

“Excuse me? No, no, Sir, it’s not,” Heislin said. He gave the handler the parchment. “His Lordship sold Aris to me, and here’s the document to prove it, and…” Heislin straightened up. “I want him, right now.”

The handler studied the document, holding it up against the dim light of a lantern, as if he wanted to test its authenticity, but then he shrugged. “All right, one whore less to keep track of then. Here, you’ll need this.” He gave Heislin his document back together with a small key hanging from a leather string.

“What’s this for?” Heislin asked.

The handler laughed. “You’re still wet behind the ears, aren’t you? That unlocks the chain between his legs. I would have thought you’d want to play with his cock at least _some_ time? Don’t unlock it too often though, he’ll get spoiled. Oh, and the neck ring, that’s welded on, no key for that.” 

Embarrassed Heislin quickly shoved the key into his inner shirt pocket.

“Well, have fun then, I suppose,” the handler grinned. He told the jailor he could let the librarian have the slave, and left. 

The jailor showed him to the cells.

Most of the cells were empty, the vicinity being a calm one with few criminals, and with a ruling lord who was not a tyrannous one. Heislin recognized the off key slurred singing of the village drunk from one of them, but he seemed the only occupant. 

Except for Aris.

Heislin hadn’t expected anything good of this place, but he was still shocked as he peeked through the barred door. The cold floor was only minimally covered in lumpy dirty straw, and Aris had nothing else in there than a bucket in a corner and a threadbare blanket. The cell stunk of urine and feces, and there was a rustle as something small and dark suddenly sped across the floor. Heislin spotted Aris in a corner, where he’d tried to make a sort of bedding out of some of the straw. He’d rolled into the blanket, and had pulled it over his head. 

When the jailor unlocked the door Aris didn’t look up at them. He only curled in on himself further. His pale hands, the only things sticking out, held on to the blanket in a desperate grip, as if he thought the thin fabric could protect him from his tormentors. He whimpered. 

Heislin’s heart cramped up. Aris no doubt thought they came to flog him again, or worse… 

He asked the jailor to leave and went inside the cell. “Aris,” he said softly, crouching down beside him and putting a light hand on his shoulder. “Aris, it’s me, Heislin.”

Aris winced in pain at the light touch, but he slowly turned his head and pulled the blanket down to peer up at him, his eyes squinting in the bad light. “Sir?”

Sadness filled his heart as Heislin realized that Aris wasn’t comforted at seeing him at all, he was only more scared. 

“Sir, I- I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I insulted you. I didn’t mean to, I’ve always admired you so much, Sir, and hoped… hoped… I’m sorry… And- and I didn’t tell them, Sir. I never told… never told them anything. They don’t know. Please don’t have them whip me more, Sir. I didn’t tell.”

Heislin couldn’t stand it; he pulled Aris up into his arms, heedless of the pain it must cause his flogged back. “No, no, no, for goodness sake, Aris, I would _never_ have you whipped. You didn’t insult me at all, it was only me being foolish and misunderstanding your intentions, and… I was just stupid, do you understand? I regretted throwing you out right away, but I couldn’t find you to tell you. I wanted to let you know how sorry I was, but I couldn’t find you, and then I… Aris, I went to His Lordship to ask for you, and… Well, I ended up telling him the truth.”

Now Aris winced from more than pain. “Oh no, Sir, you shouldn’t have. You’ll be in trouble, Sir.”

“I’m not, Aris, and neither are you. Not anymore. It’s all right, I promise. And… it’s not ‘Sir’ anymore, it’s ‘Master’.”

“Sir?” 

Aris clearly didn’t understand. Heislin let go of him to pull out the document and the key. “Look at this, Aris,” he said. He put the parchment in the slave’s hands and dangled the key in front his eyes. “I bought you from His Lordship. He was angry at first, but he understood eventually, as I… explained things, and you will not be punished anymore. You belong to _me_ now, and I sure as hell don’t want to punish you for anything at all.” 

Aris stared at the parchment, trying to make the text out in the dusky cell. His dry and chapped lips moved as he silently read. He had tears streaming down his cheeks as he finally looked up. “Sir, I- I mean, Master, I…”

“That’s all right, Aris, we’ll talk more later. Now, let’s get you out of this horrible place!”

**\-----o0o-----**

Back in his rooms behind the library hall Heislin was more than dismayed at the state Aris was in. His hair was a matted greasy mess, his eyes were hollow, and there were dark circles under them. The marks of the flogging he’d been put through – angry red stripes and bruises of all colors – covered most of his backside, and some of the front too, where the straps had wrapped around his body at the impact. He hadn’t been fed properly either and was much thinner than when Heislin had last seen him.

Aris listlessly sat on his bed and wouldn’t stop shaking. Heislin didn’t know if it was from shock or cold. He’d wrapped a thicker blanket around him, but it didn’t seem to help. He drank the tea Heislin made him, but didn’t really look any better. Heislin was worried. 

“Do you think you can manage to walk all the way down to the village, Aris?” he asked. “I’m afraid I can’t make you better, but I know someone who can, so we have to go down there. Don’t worry; I’ll carry you if I have to. But first… Try to stand up for me.”

Aris obeyed, and Heislin pulled the key from his pocket once again, and without further ado unlocked the chain from around Aris’ waist, and pulled it out between his legs. Aris looked worried, and Heislin could understand why. He thought he knew what it usually meant if the chain was removed, and Aris would naturally be apprehensive at having to serve someone like that at the moment, feeling as weak as he no doubt did. Heislin had no such intentions, though. Demonstratively he bunched the chain together with the key in his hands and walked across the room to forcefully shove it all down the trash can.

When he returned Aris stared at him incredulously. 

“The neck ring is one thing,” Heislin said, “but you’re never wearing _that_ again.”

\---

Heislin’s mother was highly suspicious of the strange naked, collared, creature that her son brought into her house… in all of two minutes! Then her compassion took over at his ill looking state. She was nothing but a practical and efficient person and had soon taken charge of the situation. Before they knew it there were several pots steaming on the stove, and she promptly put Heislin chopping vegetables while she poured water into the biggest cauldron to heat.

They rolled the large wooden laundry tub into the kitchen to prepare a bath. 

Aris watched it all with a gaunt and surprised expression, but gratefully sank down into the hot water at her order. He bravely endured the washing and scrubbing, as well as the worried outcries at how terribly skinny he was, and how awful his striped and bruised backside looked. She would take care of him, though, she promised, he needn’t worry! 

And took care of him she did. 

She cleaned him, put soothing ointment on his battered back and meticulously combed the vermin out of his hair with a fine toothed comb, making it shine again. She wrapped him in clean blankets and almost carried him over to the table to sit him down in front of a simple but rich farmer’s meal, the likes of which Heislin was sure the harem slaves never saw, as lean as they all were. Heislin couldn’t help laughing as she – resolutely brushing aside any attempts at shy protesting – stuffed Aris so full of food that he, after only a short while, silently begged him with his eyes across the table to be rescued. 

Leaving Aris with his mother until he’d fully recovered wouldn’t be a problem, just as he’d thought. In fact, when he returned a week later to fetch Aris, Heislin practically had to tear him out of his mother’s arms to get him back. She almost suffocated the slave in her affectionate goodbye hug.

“It didn’t take my mother long to get attached to you, did it?” Heislin grinned while they walked back to the palace through the village. “I was afraid there for a while she actually wouldn’t give you back at all.”

“Your mother is the kindest woman I have ever met, Master,” Aris said, but his happy expression changed into a strangely sad one as he spoke.

Yes, Heislin thought, with the exception of his own mother, maybe. Some day he would travel to the city, he thought. It could be exciting as he’d never seen a city, and he’d bring his slave, too, of course. Aris could show him around, he had lived there once, after all, and… they would find his mother. Yes, if she was still alive and at all possible to find, Aris _would_ get to see her again, 

Heislin swore it.

\---

A few days later Heislin brought Aris with him to dinner.

Now that he could decide, Heislin didn’t want Aris to go naked, but even dressed in some of his old clothes it was quite obvious what kind of a slave he was. Heislin knew that there would be some sort of reaction walking into the dinner hall. 

They were early and there were only six young men seated in there so far, already munching away. Ignoring them, Heislin choose a smaller table, where no one was seated, and took a seat to let Aris wait on him. He felt uneasy, knowing all looks were upon them now. 

It didn’t seem to bother _Aris_ in the least. He seemed as content as ever serving him, and might have been even prouder to do so around people. He fetched Heislin a plate with a healthy portion, a glass and a pitcher of water and laid it out nicely for him, ending it all with a deep bow. “Is there anything else you wish, Master?” he asked, his soft voice appearing louder than it was in the very unusual, and total, silence of the hall. 

“No, this’ll be fine, thank you, Aris. Go get yourself something as well.” 

Aris obeyed, got a plate for himself and waited respectfully, eyes lowered, for Heislin to allow him to sit down opposite from him to eat.

The young man seated closest to them, at the next table, stared. His mouth was open and he held his spoon up in mid air as if the scene surprised him so much he forgot he was about to take a bite. “No way,” he finally said. “No way His Lordship’s letting _you_ have a harem slave for the night!”

Heislin lowered his head at the contemptuous implication in the young man’s emphasis of the word ‘you’.

“Not only for the night, it seems,” another young men farther down the table cut in. “I talked to one of the guards the other day, and apparently our librarian here actually managed to convince His Lordship to sell that boy to him.”

“No way,” the first young man repeated. 

“Oh yes. Didn’t you hear the slave call him ‘master’?”

It seemed the young man was still not quite convinced, and he turned to Heislin with yet another contemptuous snort. “You don’t _really_ own that boy, do you?” he said.

Heislin straightened up. Oh yes, he _did_ , and who was that buffoon to doubt it? He’d dared shake a fist in the face of the very lord of the lands, and had yelled at him, too. If he’d he survived _that_ , then this simple farmer’s boy should be nothing to be scared of. Heislin suddenly found the courage to return that look with one of ever as much contempt. “I do own him, yes. You see what doing a good job, and setting some money aside can buy you? If you actually tried that some time, and also, didn’t waste every penny on Ale already on pay day, you might have something to show for, too, one day.”

“Now, look here, you scrawny…” the young man started, but he was cut off again.

The man farther down the table burst out laughing. “Ha, he called you a lazy drunkard! Oh, our librarian got you _good_. Admit it.”

Soon they were all laughing, the first man, red in the face with anger, yelling at them to shut up. Heislin was amazed. For once it was someone else who was the main target of their teasing, and not him.

**\-----o0o-----**

It had been more than two months since Heislin had rescued Aris from the dungeons, and it was strange how fast something that had seemed unthinkable before now became everyday life. The days passed idly by and they worked on organizing the library, studied and read. As before they found much pleasure in these activities, but it was an added joy that they could now do so without fearing discovery and punishment.

In spite of this Aris hadn’t seemed himself at first. The weeks in the dungeons, and the harsh treatment down there, had marked him in some way, Heislin thought, and made him a bit drawn back. Sometimes, in the middle of a conversation, it was as if a dark shadow would suddenly pass over his face, and now and then he couldn’t sleep at nights. However, as the weeks passed the smiles he nevertheless showed his master seemed to become more and more genuine again. 

For Heislin though, things had rarely been better. Aris legitimately being in his life had improved said life in many ways. The slave served his everyday needs, helped with his work, and offered good company. Not to mention that he’d also managed to considerably raise his status among his peers, only by existing. Heislin wasn’t teased nearly as much anymore. 

Yes, he really couldn’t have wished for more, but still… There was something between them that was not quite right, and Heislin had been very reluctant to bring it up. However, there came a day when he could stand it no longer, and he told himself that it was just plain silly that he’d found the courage to do so many things lately that he’d never thought he would dare – and still he was so scared of telling his own slave the truth.

\---

There was an extra cot in the bedroom now, where Aris slept, but tonight Heislin asked him to sit down at his bedside with him, for a talk. Aris looked worried at his master’s serious face, but, as always, he obeyed.

Down in the dungeons Aris had told him that he’d always admired him and hoped that… Hoped what? It had remained unspoken, but thinking about what Aris had once offered him, Heislin hoped that it was the same that he hoped. 

“Aris,” he started hesitatingly, and the slave watched him attentively. “I’ve been teaching you many things, and I have still many things to teach you, but there are some things that I thought _you_ could teach me.”

“Master?”

Feeling his ears go hotter by the second, Heislin reached behind him and pulled something up from under his mattress, something that he’d kept hidden under there for quite some time now, and put it in Aris’ lap. Aris looked down in surprise but then a smile slowly started to form on his lips as he recognized the book of erotic drawings.

“Would you… teach me some things from that book?”

Aris shone up like the sun. He slid down from the bed to kneel before Heislin, looking up at him eagerly. “Master, if you only let me, then nothing will make me happier in the whole wide world than to teach you _every_ drawing in this book.”

Heislin looked down at the happily grinning boy at his feet. That beautiful young man belonged to him, and he wanted to. He _wanted_ to belong to him! 

Life was good.


End file.
